11th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A (June 14, 2026)

The Gospels often tell us that great crowds gathered around Jesus. They came carrying burdens: illness, confusion, grief, sin, loneliness. Some sought healing. Others searched for hope. Many were simply looking for meaning in their lives. Looking upon them, Jesus saw people who were “troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd.” His heart was moved with pity for them.

In my book From Mountains High, I tell the story of John Michael Talbot and his inspiring journey from rock music to Catholicism. Looking back on his early years performing with the band Mason Proffit, he recalled how the huge concert crowds reminded him of the multitude who flocked to Jesus.

There was an awful lot of [drugs, loose behavior] and drunkenness. I felt a deep caring and compassion for them. Even as I played and sang, even as I felt that old stage rush of adrenaline, I was at the same time stricken with a kind of grief.

Even amid the roar of applause and the excitement of performance, John Michael Talbot sensed a deeper hunger in the hearts of the people before him. As a young man, he was always searching for greater meaning in his own life. Eventually he stepped away from rock music and spent an extended period of prayer and discernment at a Franciscan monastery. Raised in a Methodist family, his spiritual journey ultimately led him to the Catholic faith, where he discovered a new calling as a troubadour for the Lord. Since then, he has touched countless lives through his music, ministry, writing, and the religious community he founded.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus sends his disciples out to minister to a troubled and weary world because “the harvest is abundant but the laborers are few.” Christ still looks upon humanity with compassion. He still sees people wandering like sheep without a shepherd. Through our baptism, he calls each of us to bring our unique gifts into service for a world that hungers for God’s love.

But how do we do that? Isn’t ministry something for professionals — priests, religious, theologians, parish leaders? What could I possibly offer?

The beauty of Christian service is that everyone is called to become Christ for others. We each carry unique gifts, life experiences, wounds, and moments of grace that Jesus can use to bring healing and invitation to those who feel troubled or abandoned. Christian ministry does not begin with expertise. It begins with encounter. It begins with our relationship with Christ.

The First Reading from Exodus offers us a glimpse of that relationship. God tells Moses on Mount Sinai:

If you hearken to my voice and keep my covenant,
you shall be my special possession, dearer to me than all other people…
You shall be to me a kingdom of priests.

What beautiful words: my special possession, dearer to me than all other people. Before God calls us to serve, God calls us beloved.

If we truly believe that — if we truly believe we are loved by God — it can change not only our lives, but the lives of those around us.

Notice that in the Gospel, Jesus calls his disciples by name before sending them out on mission. He knows each of them personally. He knows their strengths and weaknesses, their fears and failings. Yet he calls them anyway.

Jesus called James and John, the Sons of Thunder, with all their fiery personalities. He called Simon the Zealot with his passionate intensity. He called Matthew the tax collector, an outsider despised by many of his own people. He called Peter, impulsive and flawed, who would nevertheless become the rock of the Church. He called John Michael Talbot, the rock musician who became a troubadour for the Lord.

And he calls you. 

The world is still full of troubled and abandoned souls searching for hope. And Christ still walks among the crowds with compassion. May we open our hearts to hear him call us by name, so that through our words, our kindness, our prayers, and our service, his lost sheep may finally find their way home.